


"Severus. Teacher. Sev."

by ennejoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Non-Canon Magic School, Post-Canon, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-01-06 12:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12211410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennejoy/pseuds/ennejoy
Summary: A reluctant Severus takes part in a teacher exchange. The results surprise him.





	1. "You have thought of everything."

The potions master looked at his new students. Twenty children, twenty amazingly potential magical careers, trusted in his care for a brief period. Twenty human beings, each burdened with so many emotions as to make every day a rollercoaster ride.

"Okay everybody, let's start the lesson."He missed his dungeon, he missed his voice echoing between the ceiling arches.

"Good afternoon."

"Good-af-ter-noon-teach-er", the class chorused happily.He missed his authority based on the threat of punishment. Merlin, he even missed  _Filch_.

And now for the hardest part. What doesn't kill you...

"My name is Severus Snape. You can call me Severus, or teacher, or Sev, if those other two are too long."

The class looked at him expectantly. This was the time where he usually gave his well-honed speech. This time, however...

"Okay, now, let's get to know each other. Tell everybody your name, where you live, and your favorite magical creature."

 

* * *

 

_Two_ _months_ _earlier_ _,_ _Headmistress_ _McGonagall's_ _office_ _._

Minerva looks up from the letter she has received that morning. The door has just quietly clicked shut, and Severus is turning towards her from closing it.

"Headmistress. You wanted to speak with me."

"Severus. Sit down, please."

"Will this take long? I have a potion downstairs I'm supposed to stir every twenty minutes, and I forgot to cast a spell for it."

"The actual information will not take long to deliver. It will, however, take some digesting on your part."

The potions master looks confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Hmmh. As you will know, after the war the Ministry has been quite keen to get to good terms with the Ministries of other countries. Or to any terms, for that matter. Turning into a dictatorship will, for some reason, diminish a country's appeal in the eyes of some others."

Severus nods.

"And this has to do with me... how?"

"Well, one of the offers that Shacklebolt's government has extended to virtually all wizarding communities within Europe's borders and to many without, is that the famous British magical pedagogy will now be available for import to any magical school that wants it."

The look of confusion deepens. Severus still knows how to mask his feelings – knows it like a fish knows how to swim - but he has been practicing not to. Minerva decides to reward him by going straight to the point.

"Teacher exchange."

Too fast. In an instant, the mask is back on. Severus' voice is calm and controlled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, teacher exchange. Any school, from the long list that the Ministry has contacted, will be allowed to send a teacher to Hogwarts, to teach their subject and learn our ways. And in return, one member of our staff will spend an equal amount of time teaching at that school."

Severus says nothing, but the mask is slipping again – as Minerva notices to her delight. A half-raised eyebrow tells the Headmistress everything she needs. She goes on briskly.

"As you will have guessed, you will be the first of our teachers to take part in the exchange. A professor from a partner school arrives tomorrow. You will leave for your exchange school in eight weeks' time."

A slightly deeper breath, a blink half a second longer than usual. Severus is getting  _good_.

"Where will I be going, then?"

Minerva scans the letter, written curiously enough on Muggle office paper. She knows he knows it's only for the effect, but - ah well – she has always liked her drama.

"Finland."

"Fin – Headmistress, what foolishness is this?"

Severus is positively bristling now.

"The place hasn't even been a country for more than a hundred years! They were a developing country until the fifties, for Merlin's sake! What can we possibly learn from them?"

Minerva smiles soothingly.

"Calm down, Severus. Finnish mages have unique knowledge in elemental magic, and their spellwork differs vastly from ours. The children speak good English, which is a requisite for your work. And, if I understood their Rector's letter correctly, their style of teaching magic may benefit Hogwarts in unexpected ways."

Severus doesn't give in easily.

"But what about my students here? Am I so easily replaced?"

The Headmistress' smile somehow manages to be sharp and warm at the same time.

"Actually, Severus, there  _are_  many accomplished Potions pedagogues in Britain. But fear not, you will not be replaced, not for good. A substitute will take care of your classes for the duration of the exchange. You will have a say in choosing them, if you so wish. You are, and will be, the Potions Master of Hogwarts during and after your stay in Finland."

Severus nods wryly.

"You have thought of everything."

Minerva chuckles.

"I would have thought that your time in this office had taught you better, Severus. It is my  _job_  to think of everything."


	2. "No concern for their safety."

Dear Minerva,

I hope you are well. In any case, you must be in a better shape than I feel. It's been three days now, and the weekend couldn't come soon enough.

Did they mention to you when you were planning my expatriation, that I would actually not be teaching Potions or Defense? Because I have a clear memory of you not mentioning anything of the sort.

What I have actually done for most of the week is playing hide-and-seek and singing songs in Finnish. This seems to be taking up most of the other classes' time as well, especially the singing. Any "pedagogy" that I am aware of hasn't manifested itself. The children seem happy, though.

This is, by the way, not a boarding school. The children have a parent or guardian Apparate them to the school's main hall in the morning (straight inside the school! No protective charms around the perimeter - have they no concern for safety?) And after the lessons, they Disapparate home with a teacher, as it's apparently usual that all parents go to work. At half past two, the school is empty, except for teachers preparing their next day's classes.

I was given a class of eight-year-olds, second-years. The class have a teacher of their own, and I'm sharing the lessons with them. These children's English is not on the high level you mentioned. I'm learning Finnish at breakneck speed. It is easier than Mermish but more difficult than Latin.

Anyhow. The teacher, or the two of us in my case, teach the students all the subjects on the curriculum. So far it has been, like I mentioned, mostly playing and singing. They also have a forest on the school grounds, and I heard in passing that we will be going there tomorrow. To a forest! With twenty second-years! They must be mad. Have you ever heard anyone but Rubeus take students to a forest?

Yours,

S

* * *

 

Dear Severus,

Thank you for your latest letter. I am glad you feel better after the first weekend. I hope that this second week will be easier for you.

Everything seems to be in order here. Our Finnish visitor, Professor Virkeä has been causing some indignation among the staff with his motto. "Bums up from the benches – towards a healthier Hogwarts", I believe it goes. I personally find this sporty attitude a little questionable, as every student walks at least a mile of stairs every day already. But we live and learn. And his subject, Applied Geomancy, has certainly become very popular.

I find your account on the different ways of spell-singing quite fascinating. How good that you are learning Finnish already! Otherwise you would have remained in the belief that all the children do on the lessons was harmless sing-song. Do find out more about the relationship between the words and the melodies. How are they linked? And do they actually improvise some of their spells?

How curious that they don't call teachers Professor. Can you elaborate on that?

Minerva


	3. On Finnish spell-lore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the Anni Kiriloff song on the CD The Kalevala Heritage - Archive Recordings of Ancient Finnish Music. Published in 1995 by Ondine. If you use Spotify, the track link is https://open.spotify.com/track/3upS87eLKc7QXEWZKe95h2

Dear Minerva,

I hope this finds you in good health, and that my information will not bore you overly. It will, I believe, be important in our growing understanding of Finnish witchcraft.

From what I have learned, it seems that the International Statute of Secrecy of 1689 wasn't taken up with open arms by the Finns. This is supported by the fact that the national epic of the country, Kalevala, from 1835, is an openly pro-magic work, sharing the spells and the histories of some of the area's early mages. Its main character, Väinämöinen, is an accomplished spell-singer, shape-changer and necromancer, who visits the land of the dead for information and duels other mages for power. Väinämöinen wields no wand, but a version of the harp even Muggles play around here, [the kantele](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kantele).

Yesterday, I got the chance to visit the memory of a local magical historian by the use of a Pensieve, and there met a famous Finnish spell-singer ( _runonlaulaja_ ), Anni Kiriloff. She was apparently a Muggle - things aren't as straightforward here as one could imagine.

Kiriloff was singing the creation of the kantele, Väinämöinen's most trusted tool. Even the old Muggle woman seemed to feel some of the power of the story – I was positively shaking with it.

With permission from the local magical community, I transcribed a part of her song. Only the background story part, though – the spell-singing, I am told, is too potent to be set on paper, and can only be learned by ear. Below, you will find the transcription of the  _runo._ It is not apparent from my rough translation, but the Finnish spell-singing follows a rhythmic pattern of eight syllables per line, with accents on specific syllables, creating a powerful feeling of pulse. I will return to that in future.

Väinämöinen, the story goes, sets out to buy himself a horse. On the way, he arrives at the shore of a lake, and finds there a brand-new boat. The boat is weeping, because it hasn't been taken to the water yet with the other boats. Sings Kiriloff:

 

_He pushed the boat into water to run,_

_Loaded one side full of young girls_

_The other he filled with young boys_

_Himself he sat at the stern_

_The first day they rowed land-waters,_

_The second day on the sea,_

_The third day on a lake,_

_The old man rowed with his head shaking_

_The young ones rowed with the oars twanging_

_The oar handles whistled like grouses_

_The prow sang like a game of swans_

_The seats murmured like heathbirds_

_The stern was roaring with the voices of ravens_

_The boat stopped from running_

_The red boat stopped and moved backwards_

_On a rock? On a treestump?_

_On old ruins growing raspberry?_

_Or the shoulders of a pike,_

_The bent bones of the hound of water?_

_It was on the shoulders of a pike,_

_The bent bones of the hound of water._

_He took it by the shoulders,_

_By the bent bones,_

_Cut it to pieces for the poor,_

_Cut it to edible pieces,_

_The tailhairs for the old and useless,_

_The gallbladder for those with nothing,_

_The head for those coming after,_

_The lungs for those waiting ashore,_

_The liver for those left at home._

_So the wise old Väinämöinen_

_Created an instrument from duck bones,_

_A kantele from fish fins,_

_He played it with his fingers,_

_Set the strings singing._

Below, you will also find a snippet of the [transcribed melody](https://www.dropbox.com/s/qcta8amlorizeth/kantele%20anni%20kiriloff.jpg?dl=0).

The Finnish mages are a curious lot. They seem to have little use for anything if they don't know its creation story. Even basic Transfiguration – changing a nine inch nail into a candlestick, say – will start with remembering the story of iron.

(I'm glad the children don't have to find it out the old-fashioned way. It is said that Väinämöinen had to ask for help from the the dead when his axe slipped while cutting wood – and to cure a wound caused by iron, he had to know iron's origins, traveling to the Underworld and learning from dead mages. Today's students fortunately have more, shall we say, animated teachers.)

I have to go, there's a ceremony of some kind starting soon. I'll write to you about it as soon as possible.

Yours,

S


	4. Hymylä

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Toivo Vuorela (Kansatieteen sanasto [A dictionary of Finnish folklore], Helsinki: SKS 1958), Hymylä was "an imaginary place where a person giving an incorrect answer to a riddle was sent." 
> 
> Hymylä was thus a place for gathering enough wisdom to be able to rejoin the riddle game. Literally Hymylä means "a house of smiles" (hymy = smile, -la, -lä = a suffix for creating a name for a house after its owner: Anttila = the house of Antti, Väinölä = the house of Väinö/Väinämöinen.)
> 
> The spell-song is from the 32nd chapter of Kalevala. I had no English text available; the translation is mine. Unlike the last chapter, this time I aimed for a better translation of also the runolaulu rhythm. This came at the cost of some of the verbatim nature of the translation, but I felt that the combination of rhythm and an "almost-there" translation will serve this chapter better.

The class is milling about in the hallway. Some children are pulling rubber boots over their woollen socks, some are opting for bare feet. Severus has been teaching a simple Hogwartian warming charm for the second-graders, and bare feet mark those who have already mastered it. Muggle footwear, many students' preferred choice for the wet and cold April days, will do splendidly for the rest.  
  
It is a special occasion: the teacher exchange has been mutually expanded to include a visit to Hogwarts, for breeding purposes, for the Thestral herd of Hymylä. The second-years have been tasked to sing a protective charm for the creatures' journey and stay in Scotland. The rest of the school will participate by watching and listening. A big day for the class!  
  
The boots are in the correct feet, the parkas are worn the right way. Severus and Antero, the class' own teacher, start to organize the children into a line.  
  
As usual, this is a form of art unto itself. Who will get the honor of leading this time; who will trip or shove the child standing in front of them; which two will chatter and giggle through the ceremony if left to stand next to each other?  
  
The line starts to move. Severus takes the rear end, letting Antero lead the children to their assigned place next to the Thestrals' paddock. With less than the usual chaos taking place, they reach the forest well before their time.  
  
After two weeks' regular visits to the forest, Severus no longer sees the dark green mass of trees as hostile. Still, he is glad to be only a silent participant in the sending-off: the quiet forest, the onlookers, and the unfamiliar creatures combined create a sense of uneasiness in him.

 

* * *

The school has arrived, the bigger children hiding their respect for the forest behind laughs and swearwords, the smallest awestruck and quiet. Unlike Hogwarts, it's clear that most of the children can see the creatures - Severus makes a mental note to find out more about the Finnish mages' art of dying.

Gradually, the noise fades out until all Severus can hear is the wind in the tops of the trees. It is time.

* * *

 

  
Aava, a tiny child with too large rubber boots and a fuchsia umbrella in her hand in case of rain, starts the charm with a slow, lilting melody.  
  
_"Suvetar, valiovaimo!"_  
  
The rest of the class repeat the line. Severus quietly mutters the English translation, for later Pensieve use: "Lady Summer, darling goodwife."  
  
Lilja, a brave and popular child continues:  
  
_"Etelätär, luonnon eukko!"_  
  
("Lady South, you crone of Nature", Severus whispers.)  
  
Okko and Sampo, quiet and thoughtful children, share the next line:  
  
_"Hongatar, hyvä emäntä!"_  
  
("Lady Pine, you caring hostess", breathes Severus.)  
  
_"Katajatar, kaunis neiti",_  
  
continues Maimu, a child of two Estonian mages working in the Finnish Ministry's Fenno-Ugric Relations Department.  
  
("Lady Juniper, great beauty", Severus murmurs.)  
  
The spell-song continues. Pekko, Abdi, Ida and Väinö take their turns in the summoning:  
  
_"Lady Rowan, small and slender,_  
_Lady Hackberry, earth-daughter,_  
_All you daughters of the forest,_  
_Caring, noble, strong and skillful!"_  
  
When the opening lines of the charm have been sung, the rest of the students join in. The second-years have done their part, and now it is time for the whole school to send the Thestrals on their way. Severus has learned these lines in Finnish, and he joins in the singing - quietly at first.  
  
_"Give my cattle your protection,_  
_Grow my grain, my fields do favor."_  
  
But gradually the song grows, and he forgets he does *not* sing, not in public, not ever.  
  
_"Through the summer, time of flowers,_  
_Through the mildness of the long day,_ "  
  
But this is not "public", this is not even "ever". It is as though for a moment they have left the confides of earthly time and stepped into something else completely.  
  
_"While the leaf is at its greenest,_  
_While the grass is quickly growing!"_  
  
The herd of Thestrals take off into the sky. Into the midday sun they flow, and vanish from sight. The charm has been sung, and the journey will go well. It is lunchtime.


	5. Boundaries

It is lunchtime. Severus shares a long table with Antero and the class, with Pekko and Abdi sitting closest to them. Severus sighs happily, as an adult-sized portion of meatloaf and potatoes appears on his plate, and his glass is filled with buttermilk. He has noticed his growing skill in showing his emotions, and just now it doesn't even feel awkward to do so. He takes his time cutting the meat and peeling the potatoes - the idea of eating together with the children, Antero told him on the first day, is to set an example for the students in how to behave themselves at table.

Only after he has taken a few bites, swallowed, and taken a sip from his glass, does he ask a question that has been on his mind for some days now.

"Tell me, who does the lovely cooking here? Do you have house-elves in the kitchen?"

Abdi chokes into their buttermilk. Pekko giggles nervously. Severus casts a wordless tergeo to clean the drink from Abdi's plate, while at the same time cursing himself for an idiot. And what was even wrong with his question?

"Aah, no, no," replies Antero with a smile.

"I have heard about your system, but it doesn't work like that here. The elves wouldn't allow it, oh no."

Severus' confusion is apparent: "They wouldn't --?"

Antero's voice is warm and contains more than a trace of respect.

"You must understand that this piece of land we now call Finland, has always been very sparsely populated. We have been dependent on the goodwill of every living thing to survive the dark, the cold, the silence. And so our relationship with our nearest neighbors - the wood-gods, the animals, and the house-elves - has been one of mutual respect. It has to be that way, when you live ten kilometres from the nearest human..."

_(Severus closes his eyes as Antero speaks. In his mind, he sees a mass of angry house-elves and wood-creatures attacking a lonely cottage in the middle of a dark forest. The air is crisp with frost, and the stars are bright on the black velvet sky. As the creatures smash in the windows, a family is driven out of the house, into the cold night. He hears no beginning spell-song - they would be of no use against the beings that give them their power...)_


	6. Firewood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have noticed and/or wondered at my use of the singular "they", it's because the Finnish language only has one third-person pronoun, "hän" (or in informal situations often "se"). I feel uncomfortable at the thought of using gendered pronouns when speaking of people whom I usually use the Finnish "hän" about. 
> 
> Severus is a different matter, being British and having been introduced as a "he" by JKR. He also uses male pronouns when talking about Väinämöinen in his runo translation in an earlier chapter.

"... If you ever want to sleep your night easily, that is."  
  
Antero stops speaking, and Severus' vision fades out. He is suddenly very cold.   
  
"But I think it is time, now that you asked, for you to meet our elf."   
  
Abdi has been listening closely, bound by the same vision Severus was immersed in. Now they are quick to pipe in.   
  
"Anttu, Anttu, can we come too, pretty please? We haven't been there for ages!"   
  
Antero holds up their hand, palm toward Abdi, telling the child to wait a little. A smile makes the gesture one of gentleness, not in any way unkind. Severus has more questions.   
  
"Your elf? I thought you said --"   
  
"Ah, not 'ours' in the meaning that you British have. We do not presume to possess such creatures. No, by 'our elf' I mean the one we have the deepest connection with. The one who protects us if need arises. The one we take care of and respect the most. The elf of Hymylä... But I have to warn you - they are not often in a good mood."   
  
\--   
  
It is a sweaty business, chopping wood for a fire, even in the chilly March afternoon. Severus doesn't remember ever using an axe with his actual hands - spells were always available, and so much quicker! But Antero was adamant on the issue.   
  
"Our elf is old, older than Hymylä, older than Finland. They have seen humans come and go, and they have some pretty old-fashioned ideas. To get on their good side - and trust me, you don't want to imagine the alternative - you need to show a good deal of respect. And warming the sauna for them is a good way!"   
  
The logs are well dried and easy to cut. Severus soon finds the perfect spot for the axe to hit. His movements find a sense of purpose, a rhythm, a flow. His black cloak is soon discarded, and sweat covers first his forehead, then back, armpits, legs. The two piles of _klapi_ , perfectly-sized sauna wood, grow on either side of an old, age-hardened stump.   
  
"I wonder if this is how the elves of Hogwarts spend their days," Severus finds himself thinking. There are a lot of fireplaces in the castle.


End file.
